


It Started With Coffee

by AliceWasNotDreaming



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Horcruxes, Humor, Kissing, M/M, Slow Build, Starbucks, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-07-11 06:24:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 14,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15966545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceWasNotDreaming/pseuds/AliceWasNotDreaming
Summary: Harry expected something weird to happen to him over the summer holidays. (Honestly, when had he ever gotten a normal holiday?)What he did not expect was to meet Lord Voldemort at Starbucks.And then Voldemort decided that it would be a good idea to stalk Harry... And to infiltrate Hogwarts...





	1. Chapter 1

Harry was expecting something weird to happen to him over the summer holidays before his sixth year, because when had he ever gotten a normal holiday since Hogwarts, honestly? Perhaps Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon would decide to learn ballet. Perhaps Sirius would elope with Remus. Perhaps Snape would show up suddenly to declare he had applied to be Harry's legal guardian.

What he had _not_ been expecting was to meet Lord Voldemort at Starbucks.

It was not Harry's fault this time, partly not at least. He was minding his own business, just walking to a Starbucks somewhere in London to get a cup of coffee. Maybe it was really true that he had the worst luck in the entire damn world, because who else would he meet coming out of the shop other than the Dark Lord who had been trying to murder him ever since his birth?

Lord Voldemort - or Harry should call him Tom Riddle, he supposed, since the man did not look snake-like right now and actually _had a_ _ _nose,__ Salazar bless him - was strolling out of Starbucks, holding a cappuccino in one hand and a few books in another, wearing a T-shirt and jeans - _a T-shirt_ _and_ _jeans_ _!_ \- and he had the _nerve_ of looking calm and relaxed, like he belonged there. Like it was normal for a Dark Lord to buy coffee from a muggle store wearing muggle clothes.

If it weren't so terrifying Harry might have roared with laughter at the picture.

Merlin's pants - couldn't Harry get a goddamn coffee in peace?!

Harry's first instinct, after the initial shock of his life he had gotten, was to turn and run as quickly as possible. Then he decided against it. (Who was it that said the first rule of being on the run was to walk, not run?) The more rational, cleverer part of him knew he should bow his head low and try to blend in with the crowd and subtly walk away.

And then the irrational, crazy, suicidal part of him shouted defiantly that he was tired of running, thank you very much. And for once he would grasp the opportunity to surprise the Dark Lord instead of vice versa.

('Sometimes, Harry, I really suspect you of having a death wish,' an exasperated Hermione had said after the Ministry Incident last year.

She was right, probably.)

So Harry ignored the screams of 'Bad idea! Bad idea!' in his head and crossed the road quickly, heading straight for the unsuspecting Riddle, who was sipping on his drink and strolling slowly on the sidewalk.

He caught up with him easily, and before he could think twice he blurted out behind Riddle's shoulder, ' _Starbucks?_ Dear, dear, Voldemort - what would Bella say if she saw you right now?'

Riddle whirled around so fast he almost spilled his coffee. Their gazes locked, bright green on crimson.

The Dark Lord's expression was a combination of surprise, anger, and incredulity. They stared at each other wordlessly, until finally Riddle settled on an annoyed look, like he was thinking _honestly Potter, can't a Dark Lord drink his coffee in peace without bothersome arch-_ _nemeses_ _butting in rudely?_

'Well, well,' the man drawled, 'guess who walked right into my clutches like the daft _Gryffindor_ he is. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Has A Death Wish.' He gave Harry a sinister sneer. His eyes flashed dangerously.

Harry couldn't see Riddle's wand, but he knew better than to think the man was helpless or at a disadvantage. This was _Lord_ _ _Voldemort.__ And then the panic gears in Harry's head suddenly kicked in. _Great,_ _ _Potter__ _ _,__ _ _ _look___ _ _ _ _what____ _____you_____ ______got______ _______yourself_______ ________into.________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Stupid,_________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _stupid__________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _,__________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _stupid___________ \- ____________what____________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _were_____________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _you______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _thinking?!_______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _(________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _He_________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _was__________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _not___________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _thinking____________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _,____________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _that_____________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _was______________________ _______________________the_______________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _problem.)________________________ _______________________N_______________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ow____________ _____________what_____________ ______________t______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _he_______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _hell________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _do______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _you_______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _do?________________

Pulling out his wand now would _really_ be suicide. So he did the one thing he could think of - talk.

'You remind me of Hermione sometimes,' Harry rambled. 'Kind of funny - a Dark Lord resembling a muggle-born.' He grinned almost maniacally. 'Like how you both think I have a death wish, how you both like books, how you both like wearing jeans - and ___dear___ _____Godric_____ are you _seriously_ wearing jeans?'

The Dark Lord glared at him in stony silence with a disgusted look on his otherwise perfect Tom-Marvolo-Riddle face. His long fingers twitched around the cup, like he was sorely tempted to dump its contents in Harry's face and pull out his wand to _Avada_ __Kedavra__ Harry then and there. Speaking of which - why was Harry still alive, he wondered?

After an awkward pause, Riddle said icily, 'Fancy a cappuccino, Potter?'

'Hell yes, thank you,' Harry said.

(In retrospect, it had totally been Harry's fault.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I actually don't know if Starbucks was invented yet at Harry's time, but that doesn't matter
> 
> And if you haven't guessed already, this is an AU in which Sirius didn't die in the battle at the Ministry. Because Sirius is too good to deserve such a fate  (/^▽^)/


	2. Chapter 2

'An espresso, please,' Harry said.

The waitress flashed Riddle a flirtatious smile and completely ignored Harry. 'Back again, mister?' she purred, eyes half-lidded seductively. 'What would you like this time?'

'A cappuccino, thank you,' Riddle said expressionlessly.

'Right away, darling,' the waitress said airily, batting her lashes at him.

' _A_ _ _n__ _ _ _espresso___ _, please_ ,' Harry repeated loudly. The waitress threw him a sullen glare, as if accusing him silently of ruining her 'moment' with Riddle. He scowled. Great. Women fancied _Lord Voldemort_ over him. Ron would laugh himself sick if he ever heard about this.

They sat across the table, facing each other in awkward silence, like two teenagers on a first date. (Which could be _very_ awkward, Harry knew from his unfortunate experience with one Cho Chang. He internally winced at the memory.)

'So,' Harry broke the silence after taking a sip of his drink, 'you like coffee and muggle books.' 

Riddle absent-mindedly stroked the spines of his pile of books stacked neatly on the table. 'Well observed, Potter,' he said sarcastically. 'You really are _unusually_ perceptive, aren't you?'

Harry ignored the jibe, Merlin knew he had been on the receiving end of countless insults about his intelligence already, thanks to Snape. And Hermione, occasionally. 'What books do you like, _Mein_ _ _Kampf__?' he asked, only half joking, as he leant forwards to look at the first book. ' _Metamorphosis_ ,' he read aloud. He distinctly remembered Hermione chattering about this book, something about a boy being turned into a cockroach or something. (He imagined what he would say to her if he got out of here alive, 'Hey, Hermione, do you know that Voldemort likes reading _Metamorphosis_ too? Yeah, really! No kidding, I think you two would _truly_ get along.')

Riddle merely stirred his coffee with his straw wordlessly, watching Harry with a mildly distasteful expression. And for all that he looked like he had just smelled a pile of dung, Harry noticed with slight bitterness, he was still unbelievably attractive. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the waitress, who was hovering behind the counter, gaze at Riddle with dreamy starstruck eyes before carefully reapplying her lipstick.

'I think the waitress is hitting on you,' he told the Dark Lord.

Riddle sneered at him, an almost gloating look in his eyes. 'Ah, yes, poor Potter and his little heart aches,' he said mockingly. 'Who was that girl again, the one who dumped you in the middle of a tete a tete at a teashop?'

Harry flushed. Witch Weekly had somehow gotten hold of that ridiculous incident. (Ron suspected it was Roger Davies. 'He's a womanizer, that one, and he's jealous that you've got such a nice pretty girlfriend,' the redhead had said furiously after they saw Davies flirt with Madam Rosmerta.) The news had quickly spread through the school (and the entire Britain, to Harry's humiliation). The result was that Cho was bombarded by a horde of owls carrying indignant letters and howlers from Harry's 'fan club', and Harry was jeered at by the rest of the school and, now, by Lord Voldemort.

'You read Witch Weekly?' Harry said accusatorily, his cheeks burning. 'Well, you should know that gossip magazines are a load of rubbish.'

Riddle gazed at him pityingly. 'You are so pathetic and ugly I almost feel sorry for you, Potter,' he said.

'Who was it that had no nose for the past year?' Harry fired back, feeling annoyed. He knew that he was not particularly handsome, but he would never have called himself _ugly_! 'I used to wonder why dear Bella adores you so much, but now I can guess. You must have resembled a particularly ugly pet snake she owned at one time.'

Riddle gave him an icy smile, which would have been unsettling if he wasn't wearing a T-shirt. He fingered a hideous ornate vase on the table. 'I am sorely tempted to hurl this vase at your head, Potter,' he said in a soft dangerous tone. 'Do you know why I don't?'

'Oh, because you are a _gentleman_?' Harry said derisively.

'No, because your head is not worth the price of this vase,' Riddle said viciously. _Ouch._ The Dark Lord graced him with one last dirty look before standing up in one fluid movement and turning to make for the door, scooping up his books with one hand gracefully.

Harry blinked, floored. _What?! Is that it?!_

He knew he should immediately hide underneath the table until Riddle had gone and hope he did not remember that he had wanted to murder Harry for the past sixteen years. But he couldn't help himself.

'Wait!' he shouted. 'You aren't gonna kill me?'

Riddle paused, turned around, and gave him a sneering smile. 'Not _yet,_ ' he said softly. And then he turned around and pushed out of the door, vanishing in the blink of an eye.

('Why does Voldemort always have to make dramatic speeches or dramatic exits, do you think?' Harry had asked Ron and Hermione once.

'It's a strategy to leave an impression on the enemy -' Hermione began.

'Nah,' Ron cut in. 'It's because he's a Dark Lord. Dark Lords all have delusions of grandeur.' He nodded wisely. 'And don't say his name,' he added as an afterthought.)

Harry sat on the chair, his head spinning. If it weren't for the empty cup Riddle left behind he would have thought he had just been hallucinating. _What_ _ _the__ ___hell___ _ _ _ _just____ _ _ _ _ _happened?_____ he thought, rubbing his temples.

He made a decision and stood up, making for the counter. 'Sorry, can I borrow your phone?' he asked the waitress. She gave him a sour look like ' _why_ _ _is it you__ ____here____ __instead__ _ _of that handsome man__ _ _you__ _ _were__ _ _ _sitting___ ____with____ ' before beckoning at the telephone behind her.

He picked the receiver up and punched in Hermione's number. He could feel a migraine coming, and let out a small groan.

'Hello?' Hermione's voice spoke.

'Hermione?' Harry said. 'It's Harry. Uh, sorry to bother you, but I just had coffee with Lord Voldemort in a Starbucks, and I'm feeling pretty traumatised and confused right now, because apparently he wears jeans and has a nose... And did I mention he likes reading _Metamorphosis_? No, I'm not kidding, it's real...'

(Harry did not notice Riddle, who had reappeared outside the shop, point a wand at his back and mutter a spell, before smirking and vanishing for good.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who think this Starbucks encounter didn't give Tom and Harry a long enough time to chat - don't worry, this is not the only meeting they'll be having before the summer ends **wink**


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is sth wrong with the Italic font, so sorry about the weird format xD

Nagini was waiting for him at her usual place when Tom got home - curled up on her favourite armchair by the fire, which also happened to be _his_ favourite armchair.

He picked her up unceremoniously and deposited her on another chair, making her hiss in displeasure, before sitting down himself and crossing his legs.

 _'I_ _ _met__ _ _ _Potter___ _ _ _ _this____ ______afternoon______ _ _ _ _ _ _ _at_______ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _the________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _coffee_________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _shop,'__________ he told her in Parseltongue.

Nagini hissed in excitement, her annoyance momentarily forgotten. _'_ _ _He__ _ _ _is___ _ _ _ _dead?'____

Tom scowled at his pet. Snakes can be so wilfully stupid sometimes. He truly wondered why so many people associated such idiotic creatures with cleverness and cunning. _'I_ _told_ _you three_ _weeks_ _ago,_ _ _I__ _ _ _can't___ ____kill____ _____him,'_____ he said irritably. _'_ _ _His__ _ _ _mother's___ _ _ _ _protection____ _ _ _ _ _renders_____ ______him______ _ _ _ _ _ _ _indestructible_______ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _to________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _me,_________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _and__________ ___________I___________ ____________will____________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _definitely_____________ ______________not______________ _______________trust_______________ ________________the________________ _________________task_________________ __________________of__________________ ___________________killing___________________ ____________________him____________________ ______________________to______________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _those_______________________ ________________________worthless________________________ _________________________minions_________________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _of__________________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _mine.___________________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _'_______________________________________________________ He paused, frowning.

 _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _'_______________________________________________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _And____________________________ _____________________________there_____________________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _is______________________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _something_______________________________ ________________________________else________________________________ _________________________________in_________________________________ __________________________________him__________________________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _-___________________________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _something____________________________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _strange_____________________________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _-_____________________________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _I______________________________________ _______________________________________feel_______________________________________ ________________________________________it________________________________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _in_________________________________________ __________________________________________his__________________________________________ ___________________________________________magic,___________________________________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _but____________________________________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _as_____________________________________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _yet______________________________________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _I_______________________________________________ ________________________________________________can't________________________________________________ _________________________________________________recognise_________________________________________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _it.'__________________________________________________ He scowled darkly in annoyance. Who would have thought murdering a sixteen-year-old would have been so troublesome?

When he had first heard of the prophecy all those years ago, he had been terrified, terrified that there would be someone strong enough to rival him. But when he knew that his supposed mortal enemy was still a mere child he was elated. How hard could it be to kill a baby, he had thought gleefully.

He lamented those good old days when he had been blissfully naive.

 _'_ _ _What__ _ _ _are___ _ _ _ _your____ _____plans,_____ _ _ _ _ _ _then?'______ Nagini asked him, flicking her tail in his face. He smacked it away absent-mindedly.

His mouth curved upwards into a smile. Something that was going right, at last. Casting the tracking charm on Potter had been ridiculously easy. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer (if you can't kill them yet) - that had always been Tom's way. And besides, he needed more time to figure out what exactly was that peculiar piece of magic in Potter he had felt this morning in Starbucks.

Speaking of which...

He waved his hand, vanishing the muggle clothes and replacing them with his usual black robes. It had been infinitely embarrassing to have someone recognize him, so much so that he had almost _blushed_ earlier that day. He had nearly forgotten that Potter knew what young Tom Riddle looked like, courtesy of that buffoon Lucius Malfoy. It was careless of him.

He had been careless in so many other ways. Careless enough to entrust a piece of his own soul to a moron - and look what happened. He could feel the fury surge within him again. Lucius should be thankful that he was in Azkaban, or his punishments would not have stopped at a simple Cruciatus Curse.

So Dumbledore, that meddlesome old man, knew already about his Horcruxes. And some had already been destroyed. Meaning there was only one way to solve this - put all his remaining soul pieces back together, which would theoretically revive the ones that had been killed, and then remake them again.

A bothersome process, but there it was. If immortality were easy, everyone would do it.

Hufflepuff's cup had been taken care of, so had Nagini. The trouble was that Slytherin's locket and Gaunt's ring were both missing, most possibly in the hands of Dumbledore. And Ravenclaw's diadem, along with his diary, were both at Hogwarts.

Which meant one thing -

_'It is time to visit my old school again, Nagini.'_

But first, there was a certain Boy Who Lived he had to deal with...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a relatively dull and uneventful chapter, cuz I had to explain some of Voldemort's motives to get the ball rolling. But it'll get better soon. (*^ω^*)
> 
> Confession time : I fabricated the workings of Horcruxes to meet the needs of the story. Sorrrryy ~~~


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione was waiting for him with an anxious expression when he arrived at her house. (He had half expected Tom Riddle to suddenly pop up again, and was duly thankful when it did not happen.)

It was her mother who threw open the door. 'Harry, yes?' she smiled, looking so much like an older version of Hermione he did a double take. Harry nodded with a polite smile. 'Mrs Granger,' he greeted.

She gave him a warm embrace and led him into the sitting room, where Hermione was perched on a sofa. Harry had to crane his neck around a mountain of books that surrounded the sofa to see her. 'Hey, Hermione,' he said.

'Harry!' She smiled warmly, jumping up immediately. He could see her secretly giving him a once over as they hugged, as if trying to see if he had knocked his head too hard or had been _Imper_ _ _i__ _used._

Mrs Granger walked out of the room silently with a small smile on her face. Harry waited until she was out of earshot then told Hermione in a low voice, 'Your mum thinks I'm your boyfriend, I think. She doesn't know you're in love with Ron.'

'I don't know what you're talking about,' Hermione denied automatically, her cheeks going pink. Harry smirked.

He picked his way carefully to the sofa. 'You know, I would be very surprised if you didn't have the exact copies of all the books Voldemort was holding,' he commended, gesturing around him.

Hermione sobered up immediately. 'I still can't believe what happened,' she said, shaking her head in disbelief. 'Please tell me you owled Dumbledore, Harry? This is _serious._ ' She had that mother hen expression on her face now, and with her hands on her hips she reminded Harry vividly of Molly Weasley. He hid a smile.

'Dumbledore and Sirius and Mr Weasley,' Harry confirmed. 'I did that right before I came over.' He flopped down beside her. 'I am never, ever looking at T-shirts and jeans the same way again. This has scarred me forever,' he announced.

Hermione smiled reluctantly. 'Well, there's only one thing to be done now,' she declared.

Harry raised his eyebrows. 'Discuss if Voldemort was trying to recruit Starbucks staff? Ah, perhaps he was trying to persuade Starbucks to promote his cause - print _Give_ _ _Back__ ___to___ _ _ _ _Society,____ _ _ _ _ _Join_____ _______Death_______ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Eaters________ on their cups.' He grinned at her.

Hermione huffed, rolling her eyes. 'We are getting an adult to check if he put any curse on you _immediately_ ,' she said severely.

Harry blinked. 'Oh,' he said, feeling slightly stupid. 'I didn't think of that. I guess I was too busy thanking Salazar I'm alive to think.' He knew Hermione was not the brightest witch of her age for nothing, and he had never aspired to reach her level of meticulousness and ingenuity, but still, neglecting something so important was quite mortifying.

'Perfectly understandable,' Hermione said briskly. 'Now, as soon as I'm packed we're heading straight back to your house to collect your things. And then we're going to Sirius' house in Grimmauld Place.'

***

'There's just one hitch in the plan,' Harry huffed as he helped pull one of Hermione's enormous trunks across the pavement. 'My uncle and aunt won't be too pleased at your appearance.'

Hermione led him to a secluded street, looking around her nervously. There had been various Death Eater attacks this summer, and many of them had even made the muggle news. Bridges suddenly breaking in half, innocent 'muggles' murdered in their homes, hurricanes and earthquakes and wildfires every other day. To be frank, Harry was one of the very few who dared to walk out of his house alone without taking precautions nowadays. And look what had happened.

She said distractedly as she pulled out her wand, 'Nonsense, Harry. They can't do anything to me. I'll wait outside the house if worst comes to worst, it's all. It'll be fine.' She brandished her wand, looking unsure. 'Is this the right way to summon the Knight Bu - aaaaaagghh!'

Harry pulled her out of the way just in time as the purple bus materialized in front of them with an ear-shattering 'bang', coming to an abrupt stop a foot from where they were standing.

They hopped on before Stan Shunpike and the driver Ernie could do more than gape at the 'famous 'Arry Potter'. 'Privet Drive, please. It's in Surrey,' Harry said hastily, before making for one of the chairs at the back of the bus.

They had no more time to talk after that, because Hermione looked nauseous all the way to Privet Drive and refused to open her mouth. Harry felt much the same. (The witch who always got sick was not here this time, thankfully. Harry suspected hearing someone empty the contents of their stomach cannot possibly be good for _his_ own stomach.)

When they finally arrived, they jumped out with great relief (Stan Shunpike yelled, 'Bye 'Arry!' with relish, resulting in an entire row of passengers immediately pressing their faces to the window to gawk at them. Hermione scowled menacingly), hauling Hermione's luggage towards Harry's house hurriedly before any of the neighbours could investigate the source of the noise.

'Maybe I'll just wait outside -' Hermione began nervously as Harry rang the bell.

'Quite unnecessary, Miss Granger,' a familiar cheerful voice said. The door swung open to reveal Albus Dumbledore in all his bearded glory, bright blue robes sweeping Aunt Petunia's carefully scrubbed floors unapologetically. 'Do come in, won't you? And Harry, my dear boy! Very nice to see you again. Ah, allow me to take care of the luggage, please. No, no, I insist.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, I know Dumbledore can be an annoying git sometimes, but I like better the stories where he is essentially kindly and good. He may make wrong choices, but in the end he believes it's for the best.
> 
> (Alright, I'll just confess : the main reason I like Dumbledore is because of his tragic gay romance with Grindelwald. And because he says some nice one-liners xD)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 chapters in one day ppl lol what's happening to me it's a miracle 
> 
> Thxxxx for the kudos and comments they're really appreciated <3 love to you all

Harry prided himself on being one of the few who knew Dumbledore quite well. But now, he was not so sure anymore.

Dumbledore had acted in character up until the moment Harry finished his story. He had gallantly helped Hermione shrink her luggage, had offered all of them a drink (including the terrified Dursleys, who had scuttled away immediately at the threat of being poisoned), and had made Harry recount what happened at Starbucks.

'And then, he just walked out of the shop and _disappeared._ Just like that! Without so much of an explanation!' Harry concluded with a note of outrage. He looked at Dumbledore expectantly, waiting for the headmaster to explain.

When Dumbledore remained silent, staring at Harry thoughtfully, he prompted impatiently, 'Sir? Why do you think he did that?'

Dumbledore nodded gravely. 'Well, I cannot claim to understand all Voldemort's motives, but I must say that Metamorphosis is a very good book indeed, and I am not at all surprised that the brightest wizard of Hogwarts reads it.'

_What?!_

Harry gaped at Dumbledore. He had expected him to fret over Harry's safety, admonish him for acting recklessly, and declare him grounded until Voldemort was defeated. Or maybe Dumbledore would analyse Voldemort's motives - 'Ah, Harry, Starbucks is actually the secret gathering place of the Death Eaters' or perhaps ' 'I forgot to tell you, my boy, but Voldemort sleepwalks to Starbucks every night and stays there until midday to seduce the waitresses'.

Harry wondered bleakly if the world had gone mad, or if he was hallucinating.

'Professor,' he said slowly, trying to bring some sense back into the discussion, 'I meant - why was Voldemort at Starbucks? Why didn't he kill me? Why was he wearing _a_ _T-_ _ _shirt__ _ _ _and___ ____jeans?!____ '

Dumbledore maintained the same grave expression, but there was an odd twinkle in his electric blue eyes, as if he found this all quite funny. 'Ah, I imagine he goes to the coffee shop because he enjoys coffee,' he said cheerfully, 'and he didn't kill you because he knew he couldn't. And t-shirt and jeans because it is a hot summer afternoon, my dear boy - did you expect him to wear heavy black robes?'

A profound silence hung in the air after Dumbledore's 'analysis'. Harry was not often violently inclined (he had, after all, suffered through years of torment from Draco Malfoy and had only come close to breaking his nose a few times), but at that moment he was sorely tempted to knock some sanity back into the headmaster's head.

'Sir,' Hermione interrupted, looking just as thunderstruck as Harry felt but valiantly attempting to clarify matters, 'what do you mean by You-Know-Who knows he can't kill Harry?'

'Ah, I mean that Voldemort, clever man as he is, has finally found out about Lily's protection on Harry and the consequences of using Harry's blood to remake his body,' Dumbledore explained gently. 'And, as he has yet to figure out a way to kill Harry without killing himself, too, he has opted to place a tracking charm on Harry instead.'

'A - what?!' Harry yelped, jumping up indignantly. 'You are saying he knows where I am, like, always?! Have you removed it yet?' Honestly, sometimes Harry really thought Dumbledore _wanted_ Voldemort to catch him and kill him!

'I am sorry, Harry, but this is a dark spell invented by Voldemort that can only be undone by the castor,' Dumbledore said placidly.

Harry fought the urge to scream. _Deep_ _ _breaths,__ he thought to himself through gritted teeth.

No doubt sensing Harry's murderous rage, Dumbledore hastened to comfort him, 'No worries, Harry, he won't be able to track you in Grimmauld Place. It's too heavily protected there. You will be quite safe. And then, of course, you will be at Hogwarts.' He smiled brightly and stood up, as if that cleared matters up. 'Well, your trunks have all been packed and sent to your godfather's house. When you're ready, Harry, Miss Granger?' He offered them his arm.

Hermione walked forwards uncertainly to grip the offered arm, looking like she was suffering from shock. 'But, Headmaster - what should we do? What precautions should we take?' she asked in confusion.

Harry couldn't blame her for her bafflement. He had been talking to Dumbledore since his first year and the man still never failed to bewilder (and often infuriate) him.

'Thank you for reminding me, Miss Granger,' Dumbledore told Harry with a characteristic smile, 'I advise you not to wander alone again, my boy. You have been quite safe until now, but it is never wise to tempt fate, don't you think?'

Harry scowled and stepped forwards, reaching to clutch Dumbledore's still outstretched arm. 'I really don't think -'

He was cut off mid-sentence by an unpleasant feeling of being squeezed into a really tight tunnel. His eyeballs were pressed into his sockets, he couldn't breathe -

And then he and Hermione landed unsteadily on a pavement. An owl hooted nearby.

'A bit of warning next time, sir -' Harry began heatedly, turning towards Dumbledore, then stopped abruptly. The headmaster was gone. He and Hermione were alone.

It was dark everywhere, except for the streetlights. Harry looked up at the buildings looming silently in front of him.

'Grimmauld Place,' Hermione sighed. 'Come on, Harry. Maybe Sirius will explain things to us _properly._ '

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dumbledore's motives will be explained in due time xDxDxD
> 
> Next up : a shorter chapter involving Snape <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I know the content of this chapter isn't significantly related to the plot, but I couldn't resist indulging just this once lol

'What are you planning, Dumbledore?' Snape questioned the headmaster with narrowed eyes.

'What makes you think I'm planning anything, Severus?' Dumbledore asked innocently.

Snape did not deign to answer. He threw Dumbledore a dirty look that said ' _if you_ _aren't_ _planning_ _something_ _I'm_ _not a Slytherin_ '.

'Oh, very well. It's just that I discovered I have made a very great miscalculation, Severus, and our plans will have to be altered accordingly.' The headmaster meticulously unwrapped a bar of chocolate and took a large bite. 'Ahhh,' he sighed in satisfaction. 'Nothing like a good dose of sugar to celebrate, don't you think?' He smiled brightly at the Potions Master.

'Celebrate what,' Snape reluctantly grunted. 'That Potter is still alive?'

'Why, your successful takeover of the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, of course, my dear boy.'

***

Harry and Hermione crept inside Number 12, Grimmauld Place.

Harry had the most peculiar feeling of having walked into a tomb. Everything was silent and dark. He had never appreciated just how _grim_ this place could feel because there had been a gang of people surrounding him every time he entered the house, but now that there were only him and Hermione, the atmosphere was truly creepy.

Hermione nervously sidled closer to him as they walked down the hallway in silence towards a faint light. She gave a small sigh of relief when they entered the warm, bright room, and then -

\- her hands flew up to her mouth to stifle a shriek. She looked about to have a heart attack or a seizure, and Harry sympathized. Honestly, he did.

Because his godfather and his former professor were glued to each other - and that was a severe understatement - on a chair. Remus was sitting on Sirius' lap, and they were kissing passionately, their hands entangled in one another's hair, caressing each other lovingly -

 _In_ _ _the__ _ _ _name___ ____of____ _ _ _ _ _Merlin_____ ______and______ _ _ _ _ _ _ _all_______ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _that________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _is holy_________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _-_________

Harry should have tiptoed away quietly upstairs, should have left the hyperventilating and gagging until he was alone, and Harry _really,_ _ _really__ should _not_ have done what he did next. But the shock was too much for him.

 _'Remus?!_ _ _Sirius__ _?!'_ he yelped.

The two shot apart so violently the chair overturned with a bang.

'Harry!' Hermione groaned.

Remus' face was the colour of an especially ripe tomato. Harry had never seen the werewolf stutter, but right now Remus was fumbling for words like a teenager caught making out by his mother, blushing to the tips of his hair.

'Harry!' Sirius gasped out (Harry refused - _refused -_ to think of why his godfather was short of breath. Nope, he was _not_ thinking about that), trying to give Harry a suave grin and succeeding in looking like he had toothache. 'So nice to see you - Remus and I were just - were just -'

Just what? Smooching? Kissing passionately? Making out? Having sexy, wild foreplay?

Sirius was blushing now. He lapsed into silence, stealing a furtive look at Remus, who turned away immediately upon meeting his gaze.

Harry could not honestly say it took him by surprise, though. Sirius and Remus had been giving each other coy and borderline flirtatious looks all the time, even back when Harry was in his third year, come to think of it. That, and something Tonks had told him last year, 'Do you know that Remus had a huge crush on Sirius back when they were in Hogwarts? But Sirius was always sleeping around, and Remus thought he didn't have a chance, so he never said anything.' Harry had been incredulous at first, but then he had paid more attention to the two and was amused (and slightly disgusted because eeeeeewww) to find out that Sirius always found some excuse to touch Remus gently on the shoulder, brush a knee under the table - and Remus would either shy away with slightly pink cheeks or just sit there uncomfortably, looking alarmed but happy.

(I think Sirius and Remus are in love,' Harry told his best friends some time ago.

'Well, obviously, Harry,' Hermione eye-rolled and Ron snorted at the same time, 'Don't be stupid, mate! What got that idea into your head?!')

Hermione was now looking between the couple with a mixture of fascination, amusement and slight horror, like she wanted to congratulate them but was too horrified that they caught an ex-professor making out. (Knowing her the idea was probably blasphemous. That time Ron had brought up Snape's sex life or lack thereof, Hermione had almost split his head open by hitting it hard with her copy of Hogwarts, A History, while yelling at him to 'wash his mouth, Ronald Weasley!!!' Though really, Ron did choose a very ghastly topic to talk about, Harry couldn't blame Hermione for that.)

There was a moment of silence.

'It's alright,' Harry said, biting the inside of his mouth hard to stop himself from laughing out loud. 'I mean - we sort of expected it, everyone did - we just did not expect to witness such a - er -  passionate - expression of your undying love for each other -'

Hermione let loose a shrill sound that might have been a nervous (hysterical?) giggle suppressed with the greatest effort.

'- You do make a very nice couple, it's all I mean.' Harry finished, now grinning uncontrollably.

Sirius grinned at him, albeit looking slightly sheepish, and went to hold Remus' hand. Remus' had shoulders sagged, and he gave Harry and Hermione a small, nervous smile, looking so _relieved_ that Harry had to step forwards and hug him.

'We are all happy for you two, Remus, Sirius,' Hermione smiled warmly.

'And,' Harry added with a big grin, 'it's about time, don't you think?'

Really, in comparison of what just happened, Harry thought, his lips twitching, the Starbucks Incident almost seemed insignificant.

Nevermind his trauma of seeing his godfather do something like that - Harry knew enough of self-sacrifice to not grudge them their moment. Though he really wished there would be more warning next time.

'When did this happen?!' Hermione whispered in his ear some time later. 

'I dunno, but I am so looking forward to telling Ron,' Harry whispered back.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry was bored out of his mind. It had been three days since he got to Grimmauld Place and he had not ventured a step our of the door.

If this was what Sirius felt last year, shut up in a horrible, dark place like this, he understood his urge to do reckless, stupid things. He officially apologised for criticising Sirius' suicidal tendencies.

Not that playing Exploding Snap with Ron (who had arrived the day after Harry and found the concept of the Dark Lord liking a drink as bitter and off-putting as coffee very interesting) every hour of every day wasn't interesting, and not that bring forced to do homework with Hermione wasn't invigorating -

It was just, after a while, it really was _not_ interesting nor invigorating.

That was why he felt really justified when he made Ron and Hermione sneak out with him to a shopping mall nearby. Hermione he persuaded by informing her of the existence of a muggle public library opposite to the mall, and Ron was just as eager to get out of Grimmauld Place as he was. They would have brought Sirius along, since he was now cleared of his murder charge (something Sirius seemed to find disappointing), but Harry's godfather seemed quite preoccupied with his new boyfriend.

Hermione made a beeline straight for the library after warning Harry and Ron to 'stay vigilant', leaving the two to take a look at Hamleys.

'What in the name of Merlin is that,' Ron fairly gaped at a Barbie doll on the shelf.

'A Barbie toy muggle parents like buying for their daughters,' Harry told him. 'What, didn't Ginny have something similar when she was young?'

'Not really, no,' Ron said, starting to grin, 'I think I ought to buy her one. Just to help her with her muggle studies class, you know?'

Five minutes later, Ron exited the toy shop carrying two Barbie dolls ('One for Hermione,' Ron explained), only to be transfixed by the McDonald's beside the store. Harry, who had eaten far too many Big Macs over the summer to ever want to step foot in it ever again, left Ron and wandered off to a shop selling artefacts.

He was looking at a grandmother clock when a cold voice said behind him, 'You really are growing careless, Potter.'

Like, _shit._

Wasn't that one time in Starbucks enough? Remus had still not stopped telling him off for being reckless and 'not thinking things through', and now _this_? Come on!

He remembered the tracking charm, but somehow it had never hit home that Voldemort could - well - _track_ him with it. Like one knew about traffic accidents happening everywhere, but it never occurred to one it would happen to _them._

Harry closed his eyes for a second, sighed in resignation, and turned. 'Hey, Riddle. Fancy seeing you again. You sure you're not the careless one?'

Tom Riddle, standing casually in a black suit this time, stared at him impassively. 'Oh, I am quite sure. You see, I'm not the one wandering around alone and helplessly.'

'You are alone,' Harry pointed out. Then he looked around suspiciously. 'You are, aren't you?'

'Yes,' Riddle said, his lips curling upwards. 'But I am slightly less helpless than you, I would say.'

There was a pause. Riddle looked around him, as if to survey his surroundings. His eyes fell on a small bookshop. 'Come along,' he told Harry, heading for the shop immediately at a brisk place.

Ah. Harry had almost forgotten he was with a male, evil version of Hermione Granger.

'You know, it's polite to _ask_ first before taking someone on a date,' Harry commented snarkily as he jogged along behind Riddle.

'You seem to be coming along quite willingly,' Riddle commented without a backwards glance. Harry knew he was sneering just from the tone.

'I wouldn't exactly say "willingly",' he muttered.

He looked about when they entered the shop. 'It's a bit small, don't you think?' he said. 'Won't the public library across the street suit a bookworm like you better?' Too late, he remembered _Hermione_ was in the library and cursed himself.

Fortunately, Riddle did not seem inclined to change his destination. 'Bookstores are better than libraries in some ways, Potter,' he said with another sneer. 'You always find the latest books easily, for one. And you can buy books instead of just borrowing them.'

'Oh, yes, I forgot you were possessive,' Harry smirked. Riddle did not reply.

He followed the Dark Lord as he searched the shelves of books, finally stopping in front of the fiction section. He cocked his head and surveyed the books in an expert fashion, then decisively swept a dozen out. Harry had time to catch the title of the first - an Agatha Christie book - before Riddle turned to make for the counter.

Harry raised his eyebrows when the Dark Lord exited the shop with a shopping bag stuffed full of books (the bag had been a gift from the starry eyed female owner of the bookstore). 'You really are rich, Voldemort,' he huffed. Sure, the owner had gave Riddle a discount for no reason at all, which he had gracefully accepted, but still.

'Knowledge, Potter, is beyond the reckoning of money,' Riddle said grandly.

'And you are using Lucius Malfoy's money, anyway,' Harry added.

Riddle's face turned even frostier. Oops. It seemed the Dark Lord did not appreciate being called poor.

'Well, that is enough for today, don't you think?' he said, eyeing Harry coldly. Without further ado he walked away. 'I would advise Weasley not to buy that strawberry milkshake if I were you, by the way,' he called out. 'And Granger has w disgusting habits of sniffing books, tell her that.'

Harry watched as Riddle disappeared around a corner, then raced as fast as he could towards McDonald's. Salazar, he would _never_ forgive himself if Ron or Hermione -

He breathed a sigh of relief when he found Ron happily wolfing down his French fries. His best friend looked up as Harry came in. 'Very good, this,' he mumbled around a mouthful of food. Then he spotted the look on Harry's face. 'What happened? One would think you met You-Know-Who again,' he joked. When Harry did not answer the blood drained from his face. 'Don't tell me you met him _again?!'_

Harry sighed. 'Well, at least I learnt something this time,' he said sourly. 'If you wanna scare away a Dark Lord, just say he's poor.'


	8. Chapter 8

The third time Harry saw Tom Riddle was on his birthday. Sirius and Remus brought Harry, Ron and Hermione to a fancy restaurant for lunch to celebrate, and Harry happened to look out the window - and saw Tom Riddle standing on the street across the road, arms crossed, staring at them impassively. Harry jumped and called out for his companions to watch out, but then a bus blocked his view of the man and when Harry looked again he was already gone.

'Watch out for what?' Hermione asked skeptically as Harry pressed his face against the window.

'Uhh - Lord Voldemort?' Harry said stupidly. 'He's gone now.'

'Maybe he's observing our behaviour? Spying on us?' Hermione suggested with a worried look as she craned her neck to look out of the window.

'Maybe he just wanted to wish you happy birthday,' Ron suggested before happily continuing to devour his steak.

'I'm not hallucinating or paranoid, Ron,' Harry said, annoyed and exasperated. 'I really did see him.'

'Well, if you did, Harry, I must say that I have no idea why. It seems quite pointless to follow you around like a lost puppy,' Remus said with furrowed brows as he and Sirius exchanged a look.

'Yeah, your daily routine is boring,' Ron added with a snort.

'I'm glad you've gotten used to the presence of You-Know-Who in our lives so quickly, Ronald,' Hermione said icily, glaring at him.

***

When Harry got back to Grimmauld Place to unwrap his presents, he found a package on the top of the pile with no signature. He tore open the package before he remembered it might have been from Lord Voldemort. A short note fluttered out.

Ron picked up the note. 'You are one more year closer to your death, Potter, congratulations,' he read aloud. 'Enjoy counting down to it.'

The package contained a clock.

'Haha. Very funny,' Harry muttered.

'At least it's actually _useful_ ,' Hermione sniffed in disdain as she fetched out the miniature toy broomstick Ron gave Harry.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More nonsense from me lol

As the start of the term drew near, Harry, Ron and Hermione found themselves troubling over how to get their school items from Diagon Alley.

'I don't like being tailed by Aurors,' Harry said morosely, 'but I'm starting to think it's necessary, given that it's quite likely Voldemort jumps out from behind a rubbish bin to surprise me again.'

But on the 25th, Remus, looking miffed, told them Dumbledore had wanted them to go shopping alone. _Alone_ , as in without the companionship of any Aurors, or Remus, or Sirius, or anyone else.

'What? But that's dangerous!' Hermione protested, horrified.

'That's what I said,' Remus replied grimly. 'But apparently Dumbledore doesn't think so. You've got to be careful, you three. Stick together at all times.'

'Mrs Weasley agrees to it?' Harry asked dubiously.

'Ah, Molly - well, Molly doesn't really know, to be honest,' Remus admitted sheepishly.

Travelling by Floo would never be Harry's first choice, but it was quickest and safest. When the three popped out of the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron, they found the pub strangely deserted, and when they entered Diagon Alley they noticed there weren't many people there either.

'I think You-Know-Who scared them away,' Ron sighed. 'Fred and George have a shop here. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. They say it's making money, but I don't see how.'

When they arrived at the shop itself, though, they were surprised to find that business was booming. Adults and children alike were crowded inside the joke shop, marvelling over Puking Pasties or Dung Bombs or whatever new product the Weasley twins had managed to invent.

After greeting Fred and George, who promised Harry and Hermione that they could just take whatever they wanted from the shelves directly ('What about me? I'm your brother!' Ron protested. Fred replied, 'It's already painful enough without you yelling it out for the whole world to hear. Don't rub salt into the wound.'), the three wandered around the shop. Harry stared in fascination as a boy inhaled some sort of perfume and abruptly shook off the girl whose hand he had been holding, then kissed another boy - his friend? - on the mouth.

Harry roared with laughter as he heard the unfortunate friend shout out in shock and horror. He grabbed a bottle of the perfume. 'Gay Pride Perfume,' he read aloud.

'Along with a love potion, I think,' Hermione said beside him, looking torn between amusement, disapproval, embarrassment and admiration. 'Clever. But it's not very - um - _moral_ , don't you think?'

'Yeah, that might've been the poor bloke's first kiss. I think they just ruined a friendship,' Ron said unsympathetically.

'Not _that_ serious, I hope?' Hermione said, alarmed.

'I'm just saying, if Harry gets within ten inches of my mouth, he's a dead man,' Ron said, first grinning then grimacing at the thought. Harry gagged, repulsed.

'I wouldn't worry, Ron. Not even Mum is willing to get within thirty inches of your face,' George chimed in. Ron turned the colour of tomatoes and scowled at his brother furiously.

His attention was diverted, however, by the sight of the boy, who had apparently come back to himself, simultaneously apologising to his friend and trying to calm his infuriated girlfriend down.

'Ah, yes. A short-term effect. Allows you to immediately see the results of your good work,' George snickered. Harry suppressed laughter as the girl started tearing up, yelling at him about his stupidity and infidelity.

But then someone else caught his eye. A tall boy with dark brown hair, who looked about Harry's age, stood alone, half hidden in the shadows with his arms crossed casually, observing the scene with slight amusement. There was something about his air and his posture that Harry found familiar. And that expression...

Harry was still trying to figure out where exactly he had seen him before when the boy turned a pair of chocolate coloured eyes on Harry. Their gazes met. There was a flash of crimson, and a small smirk.

Harry sucked in a sharp breath.

Now he knew why the boy looked so familiar.

What he didn't know was why Lord Voldemort had to bother to conceal his appearance this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for your support, guys ♡♡♡ if you have any suggestions, do leave a comment and let me know what you think ;)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!!! Still remember me? :) xD

Without hesitation, Harry pulled out his wand and threw a Stunning Spell at Riddle. He was momentarily apprehensive that someone might get hurt in the crossfire, but he had no choice - chances were, Voldemort would still attack even if he didn't.

The brown-haired boy saw the red flash a second before it hit home; he yelped and ducked promptly, eyes widening in alarm. 'It's the Death Eaters!' he yelled, pulling out his own wand and waving it around a bit hysterically.

Harry scowled as he aimed another Stunner at Riddle's head, ignoring the chaos around them as the customers began screaming and pushing past one another to escape. He could only hope Voldemort would only focus on himself. 'A laudable performance, Tom,' he called out sarcastically. 

Riddle ducked agilely again. His eyes locked on Harry's, and narrowed angrily. 'Stupefy!' he shouted.

'Protego!' Hermione immediately said, wand raised. 'Reducto!'

Riddle's spell shattered Hermione's shield and countered her spell at the same time, barely missing Harry. Harry could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise as he felt the power of the curse brush past him.

'Expelliarmus!' he yelled. Riddle blasted the spell away easily, then, almost too quick for the eye to see, he cast another Stunning Spell at Harry.

Harry moved left to evade it, but he was too slow. The beam of red light caught him in the chest hard, he heard someone shouting his name in panicked alarm, and then he was flying backwards. He passed out before he hit the floor.

***

When Harry woke up he was lying on the floor. Faces hovered above his head, with varying expressions - Hermione worried - Ron and the twins - amused? - and finally -

He shot up. 'You,' he snapped at Riddle, reaching for his wand.

The slightly apologetic look on Riddle's face was immediately wiped away. 'Yes, me,' he said ungraciously, scowling. 'May I ask what I have done to offend the great Harry Potter?' Brown eyes travelled to Harry's forehead, and he instinctively pushed his hair down over the scar.

'I dunno,' he fired back, still searching for his wand. 'It _might_ have been because you murdered my parents? And tried to kill me, like, half a dozen times?'

Riddle's eyes bulged. 'Merlin's beard,' he huffed, 'he thinks I'm _You-Know-Who_?'

Harry's eyes narrowed.

'Uh, Harry,' Fred said, lips twitching as he fetched out Harry's wand from his pocket, 'I think there's been a slight misunderstanding. This is Mark, Mark Churchill. He's been working here since our shop opened.'

'Nice to meet you, too, Potter,' Mark said scathingly.

***

The rest of the trip to Diagon Alley was spent in awkward silence. Or rather - Harry was gloomily silent, half distrustful, half embarrassed, while Ron and Hermione were trying to suppress their laughter as they trailed behind Harry.

'Really, Harry,' Hermione said finally, 'it's alright. We all have our "moments". I'd become a bit paranoid too if I had a murderer stalking me.'

'Paranoid,' Harry repeated glumly. 'That's what I am now?'

Hermione said hastily, trying to comfort him, 'I mean, you're on your guard - which is normal, and good.' This encouragement was rather spoiled when Ron snorted beside her.

'Yeah, right,' Harry muttered.

But he was sure it had been Voldemort. There had been a flash of scarlet in Mark's - Riddle's - eyes, he had seen it - or had he?

'I saw it,' Harry repeated stubbornly for the umpteenth time. 'His eyes were red, for one moment.'

'C'mon, mate,' Ron huffed, rolling his eyes. 'The lights in the shop were flashing a different colour every two seconds. I saw your eyes go _pink_ for one moment.'

Harry said nothing, but he still wasn't convinced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After 10 chapters of endless blabbering we're finally getting to Hogwarts :) next chapter will guarantee that Harry boards the Hogwarts Express ;) 
> 
> Thxxxxxxx to everyone who has supported me ♡ love u guys


	11. Chapter 11

The rest of the holiday passed without another word from Voldemort, so the only thing that could distract Harry from the humiliating incident at the Weasleys' joke shop was the news that Sirius would be driving them to King's Cross Station.

'You can drive?' he asked his godfather in surprise. 'You can drive a muggle car?'

'Harry,' his godfather said severely, ' _Ron_ can drive a muggle car. Of course I can drive a muggle car.'

Harry was vividly reminded of the only time Ron had driven his car, and how they had almost died. 'Okay. If you say so,' he said, not wanting to be rude.

Hermione had less scruples. 'Sirius,' she said, hurrying after him as he helped them haul their luggage into an expensive looking Mercedes, 'can you drive more - you know - _slowly_? I mean, we have plenty of time, so there's no need to rush. At all. So you can keep below the speed limit.'

'What's a speed limit?' Sirius asked blankly. Hermione blanched.

Her fears were proved legitimate when Sirius almost crashed into three lampposts, five cars and around twenty pedestrians at breakneck speed. Remus, in the shotgun seat, clutched the armrests so tightly his fingers turned white, while Hermione kept whimpering and letting out small shrieks intermittently.

'You know, Sirius,' Harry called out when Sirius narrowly avoided crashing into his eighth lamppost, 'I think you're eligible to replace Ernie as the driver of the Knight Bus.'

'Going to take that as a compliment,' his godfather replied cheerfully, stamping on the brake hard. The tyres let out an ominous screech, and Ron and Hermione groaned in unison as they lurched forwards.

'Padfoot,' Remus groaned, 'you are aware that this is a _Mercedes_ , yes?'

***

Harry, Ron and Hermione bid Sirius and Remus goodbye on the platform. ('Give Godfather a kiss,' Sirius said, wriggling his eyebrows at Harry. Harry refused, telling him to go to Remus instead.)

'I swear, it's getting harder and harder to find an empty carriage,' Ron complained as they walked past student after student ogling them shamelessly. 'Why is this blasted train so packed all the time.'

'There,' Hermione huffed, hauling her oversized luggage behind her. She pointed at Luna and Neville, who were waving at them from an otherwise empty carriage. 'They saved us some seats.'

'Good for them,' Harry grinned.

***

Harry, Ron and Hermione, along with Luna and Neville, had just settled down comfortably when _he_ came in.

'Mark Churchill' - Tom Riddle, rather - knocked and entered rather breathlessly. 'I'm sorry, but can I sit here? I can't seem to find any more seats -' Then he spotted Harry, and his face darkened. 'Oh. Nevermind. I'll just keep looking,' he said coldly, turning to leave. 

Luna raised her eyebrows. 'No, no, come sit,' she said generously, ignoring Harry's petrified expression. 'We've got some space left. I'm sure no one will mind.'

Although Mark obviously thought that _someone_ will surely mind, he sat down beside Luna after a moment's hesitation. 'Alright. Thanks,' he said, slightly embarrassed, glaring at Harry subtly.

It was a bit strange, how Harry could deal with Lord Voldemort himself easily enough, but was uncomfortable and annoyed by someone who _might_ be him, or might _not_ be him.

'Hi again, Mark. So you're coming to Hogwarts this year?' Hermione asked kindly.

'Yeah. Sixth year. I was home-schooled before, but my mother passed away last year. So here I am.' Mark shrugged, face guarded and expressionless.

Harry didn't know what to say. He stared at Mark suspiciously. Would he be as daring as to suggest that the murderer of Mark Churchill's parents was none other than Lord Voldemort?

Mark felt Harry's glare. As if guessing his thoughts, he laughed coldly, a sneer on his face. 'Not You-Know-Who, I'm afraid. A far too dramatic death for my old mother. Just a heart attack, thank you very much.'

Hermione immediately looked sympathetic, throwing Harry a disapproving look at the same time. 'I really am sorry. My Aunt Jeanett died from a heart attack last month, too. It was very sudden. My father was devastated.'

Jeanett Granger... Jean Granger? Harry blinked. 'Were you named after her?' he asked her.

She nodded. 'She was a kind, affectionate old woman. She liked messing up my hair, then bringing me whole bags of sweets to make up for it. My parents - dentists - weren't very happy about that.' She laughed, sounding a bit wistful. 'I was very fond of her.'

They lapsed into silence after that, nobody quite knowing what to say. Harry glanced secretly at Mark, but the boy was staring down at his hands resolutely, as if determined to keep quiet.

'You're sixteen, Mark?' Luna suddenly asked in a dreamy voice.

'Yes. Seventeen next month,' Mark answered, looking startled. 'Why?'

'Making small talk,' Luna replied smoothly. Mark blinked. She continued, 'I'm rather looking forward to the Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons myself. You?'

'Oh,' Mark said, looking startled and baffled, 'uh - I don't really know what to look forward to. What are lessons like here, generally?'

Hermione perked up. 'It varies from teacher to teacher greatly,' she immediately answered, back straight as if answering a question in class. 'For DADA, we've had a different teacher each year, so we have no idea what to expect this term, to be honest. But it's got to be something advanced to prepare us for the NEWTs. I myself think that non-verbal spells will take up most of the first two months, and then we'll probably move on to advanced dark creatures like inferi, or maybe some difficult defence spells, like the Patronus Charm.'

'Oh, good,' Mark said, looking relieved. 'I know a bit of them all. My mother has already taught me some of the basics.'

Neville and Ron were also perking up at this new topic. Neville said eagerly, 'I really wanna know what we'll be learning in Herbology, though - some rare, dangerous plants - '

'But the best is Quidditch,' Ron interrupted, looking excited at the mere thought of it. 'Do you play? You can try out for the house team once you get sorted. Or you can just watch - both ways it's good. The matches between the houses are the highlights of the year, you know. Especially those between Gryffindor and Slytherin.'

'I play, but I'm not particularly good. Speaking of houses,' Mark said, looking interested, 'which do you think I'll end up in? I'm hoping for Ravenclaw, myself. I just hope I'm sharp enough for that.'

'Gryffindor's the best choice, mate, no offence,' Ron immediately said.

'You only say that because you're in Gryffindor, Ron,' Luna said calmly.

Harry couldn't help himself. This was too good a chance to let it pass. 'Yeah. All houses are equal. So no one would blame you if you want to get sorted into Slytherin, for example.' He watched Mark keenly, ignoring the exasperated glare Hermione directed his way.

Mark seemed to be more in control of his emotions now, though, and merely replied calmly, 'I'm sure you're right, but I'm not interested in Slytherin myself. From what I've read in books, Slytherin seems to be more ambition and pride than cleverness. I prefer Ravenclaw.'

The rest of the trip passed in the same fashion, them explaining more of Hogwarts' rules and school life, Mark asking some questions sometimes. Harry attempted to question Mark repeatedly, still believing that he was Lord Voldemort, but under Hermione's increasingly ferocious glares and Ron's increasingly frequent eye-rolls, he had to give up. He gained next to nothing from his questioning, only that Mark thought snakes fine enough, that he had heard quite a lot about Grindelwald from his half-French half-British mother, that he thought Dumbledore a bit batty, and that he had not been much interested in news about Death Eater attacks, prior to that incident in the Weasleys' joke shop.

Shortly before they arrived at Hogwarts, Hermione pulled him aside into the corridor. 'Look, Harry. I don't know why you keep insisting Mark is You-Know-Who, but don't you think it's a bit unfair to him to act so hostilely? Especially when considering that his mother just died, and that he's alone in a foreign country with no family and no friends!' she said severely, frowning at him.

Harry bit his lip. 'I know, I'm sorry,' he said, feeling guilty despite himself, 'but I just can't stop feeling that he's fishy. Like how he's been so careful and tactful, all the time.'

Hermione sighed. 'Harry, he's been acting exactly like how someone in his situation would act. Relax, alright?'

Harry nodded, though he was still unconvinced. Hermione gave him a small smile. 'That's it. Try to cheer up a bit, okay? Fretting isn't gonna help anything.'

Before Harry could reply, Ron called from inside the compartment, 'Hey, you two, we're arriving. Hurry up and get changed.'

And in spite of his many worries, Harry couldn't help the corners of his mouth from lifting as they neared the place that was like a home to him, his heart lightening automatically.

That is, until the screams started.


	12. Chapter 12

It really was a Death Eater attack this time. All around the Hogwarts Express, masked and clocked figures popped up, encircling the station, shooting spells at everyone in sight. Red lights criss-crossed the sky, accompanied by panicked yells and muffled thumps as the occasional spell hit its target.

Mark looked shell-shocked at the chaos and sat frozen on his seat. Harry had no time for him, though. He pulled out his wand and dashed out into the corridor again, squeezing to the doors against the flow of students rushing deeper into the train.

'Expelliarmus!' Harry shouted instinctively as a Death Eater Apparated directly in front of him. He caught the wand that flew out of the man's hand deftly, but before he could bind the now wandless wizard, someone else grabbed him and Disapparated again.

There was no time to think about how the attack happened, or its purpose. Harry turned and yelled at Hermione, who was standing beside him and Ron, wand raised, 'How can we get help?'

She shouted back, 'We don't need to! Someone must already have noticed this by now. We'll just have to tough it out until they come. Reducto!' She pointed her wand at a masked witch trying to creep up on her. The witch flew backwards and slammed into one of her companions.

'Can you set up some protection spells around the train?' Ron yelled as he ducked under a Stunning Spell, then shot one back in the general direction it came from.

'It's no use. They're too close to the train, some might already have boarded it,' a male voice said behind them. Harry turned and saw Mark, holding his wand in one hand. The boy frowned as he glanced at the crossfire. 'I've been to England loads of times, but this is by far the most exciting day for me,' he said snidely, just before wordlessly disarming three Death Eaters in a roll with a single graceful flick of his wrist.

Harry was not grateful, though. He rounded on him angrily. 'Riddle! Call off the attack! Now!' he bellowed, wand rising to point at Mark, before changing directions midway to Stun a passing Death Eater. 'Call it off!' he shouted again.

Mark's face reddened, and his eyes flashed dangerously. 'How many bloody times do I have to tell you that I am NOT You-Know-Who!' he snarled.

Gritting his teeth, Harry aimed a Stunner at Mark, who deflected it easily. 'CALL IT OFF NOW!' he bellowed again, and hurled another dozen spells at the boy.

Mark's eyes turned icy. He flicked his wand and a silver shield appeared, which absorbed all the spells, then disappeared. 'I'm really sorry,' he said calmly, sounding not at all sorry, before hitting Harry in the head with a Stunner faster than the eye could see. And with a sense of deja vu Harry flew backwards, his eyes slipping closed before he crashed into the doors of the train.

***

Harry woke up with a sea of faces hovering above him the second time that week.

He distinguished Ron and Hermione, Dumbledore, Snape, Professor McGonagall - and, again, Mark Churchill. It seemed that they were in an empty classroom in Hogwarts Castle. It was quiet outside, and the Death Eaters had presumably been take care of already.

Not so for the leader of the Death Eaters, though.

Ignoring his pounding head, Harry shot up. 'Professor Dumbledore, sir!' he shouted, pointing straight at Mark. 'He's Lord Voldemort!'

McGonagall pursed her lips. 'Potter,' she began, 'you hit your head quite badly, so it's natural to feel a bit -'

'I'm not confused, Professor,' Harry cut in, gritting his teeth. Why did everyone not believe him? Just because he got lots of head injuries didn't mean he tended to hallucinate! 'It _is_ Voldemort! I saw his eyes flash red, back when I met him in the Weasleys' joke shop in Diagon Alley.'

No one spoke for a moment, everyone staring at Harry. Ron and Hermione looked exasperated and annoyed, Dumbledore impassive, McGonagall doubtful, Snape scornful, and Mark icy.

Finally, Hermione said with an impatient note in her eyes, 'Harry, we told you. The lights in the shop were flashing so many colours that it was perfectly normal for eyes of any colour to seem red. I'm sorry, but don't you think you're a bit - well - _paranoid_?'

No one spoke for another few seconds as Harry glared at her, feeling betrayed. Hermione stared back resolutely, looking determined.

After a while, Dumbledore said gently, 'Harry, this is a very grave accusation indeed. I assure you that Mark has been registered in our school since his birth sixteen years ago, and that his mother did, unfortunately, pass away due to perfectly natural causes half a year ago. If you have no other proof -'

'I know he is Voldemort,' Harry insisted angrily. 'I just - I just _feel_ it.'

Mark snorted lightly beside him, rolling his eyes at the same time. Hermione and Ron exchanged a frustrated look.

'Well, well,' Snape, who had yet to say a word, finally opened his mouth to say in a deceptively silky voice, 'I think it's clear what's happening right now. Potter has clearly been driven up the wall by the pressure of being the Boy Who Lived.'

'Severus,' Dumbledore admonished. He then turned to Harry. 'Well, we shall go through the procedures of clearing Mr Churchill if you insist, my boy. But please remember - do not be too quick to make a judgement.' The Headmaster turned to Mark. 'I am very sorry for inconveniencing you, but if you don't mind, Mr Churchill?' he asked politely, indicating towards the door of the classroom.

'By all means, check all you want,' Mark answered coldly. He threw Harry a deeply disgusted look before pointedly stalking out of the room. Professor McGonagall, muttering under her breath and shaking her head disapprovingly, followed him out and closed the door gently behind her.

There was a short pause as Snape and Dumbledore surveyed the trio.

'Well,' Dumbledore said with a sigh, looking weary, 'I'm sure you're all tired and famished from the exciting scene at the station. Why don't you three go straight to the Great Hall? The sorting ceremony will commence shortly.'

Hermione and Ron nodded obediently and turned towards the door. Harry followed in sullen silence. He hated the feeling of not being believed. He knew that his accusation rested on flimsy grounds, that he probably sounded crazy just now.

But all the same, he wished that Dumbledore could trust him more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooooo hungrrryyyy for comments   
> ヽ(＊｀Д´)ノ


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello I'm not dead yet XDXD still breathing here

Whispers broke out all around Harry, Ron and Hermione as they entered the Great Hall. Students turned to state at them as they hurried towards the Gryffindor table, muttering and pointing with open curiosity. Harry knew what they must be thinking - that the Death Eater attack had been aimed at him, that Hogwarts was no longer safe because of him. Harry couldn't deny that. He noted with guilt that more than a few students were sporting various cuts and bruises.

But what he couldn't understand was - if Voldemort wanted to kill him, why was he still alive? Tom had had countless opportunities to murder him already as himself and as Mark. Why hadn't he done that? And if he didn't want to kill Harry, what was the purpose of the attack? To terrorize?

They sat down as quickly as possible at the Gryffindor table beside Neville and Ginny. They both had a few bruises, no doubt from panicked students shoving each other to get out of the way instead of from the Death Eaters, but otherwise looked unharmed.

'Hermione,' Ginny immediately asked her friend afrer they sat down, 'What happened?'

'We don't know,' Hermione replied grimly. 'Professor McGonagall told us no one had been harmed seriously, but we didn't capture any Death Eater either, so there's no way of knowing what's the matter.'

'But keep an eye out for the new boy called Mark Churchill,' Harry added in a low voice, ignoring Ron and Hermione. 'I think he's Voldemort in disguise.'

Ginny and Neville both looked alarmed at his declaration, but before the exasperated Hermione had a chance to speak up, the doors of the Great Hall opened again. The first-years, looking frightened, shuffled into the hall after Professor McGonagall. The Sorting Ceremony was about to commence.

Harry turned away, impatient to continue his conversation. 'Do you think she's finished questioning him?' he asked.

'Probably,' Hermione answered. 'It won't be a complicated process. I expect she'll just give Mark a Truth Serum and ask him a few confirmational questions.'

'That won't be enough against Voldemort,' Harry said darkly. Hermione chose not to reply.

They turned to watch the ceremony instead. It progressed as usual, with some thirty students being sorted into each house. Harry noticed that there were a few foreign students in their midst. He supposed that some parents thought Hogwarts the safest place in Europe now that Voldemort was at large because of Dumbledore, despite the fact that Voldemort was generally acknowledged to 'belong' to Britain.

When the last student had been sorted, Ron turned with a grateful groan to his empty plate. 'Great. I'm starving,' he complained.

But Professor McGonagall showed no signs of removing the Sorting Hat from the hall. 'Everyone please be quiet,' she called our to the buzzing hall. 'Now, I am pleased to announce that two new students will be joining our sixth-years this year.'

Harry, Ron and Hermione glanced at one another. _Two?_

Professor McGonagall waved her hand. The doors of the Great Hall swung open again. Two students walked in.

The one in front was Mark. He looked fairly calm in spite of the sea of faces eagerly turned towards him as he walked towards the Sorting Hat. As Harry expected, he showed no sign of being fazed by his interrogation.

The boy behind Mark had curly silver hair and an arrogant smile. He was exceedingly handsome - almost as handsome as Tom Riddle had been, and more than Mark was. He was tall and lean, and walked with a predator-like grace that made excited murmurs break out among most girls in the hall. Harry was vividly reminded of the time Viktor Krum entered the Great Hall for the first time - the girls were positively squealing. Harry distinctly heard Lavender Brown giggle towards Parvati Patil, 'Oh my - they're in _our_ year! Can you imagine that!'

But as good-looking as he was, there was a darkness about him that made Harry blanche.

He was dumbfounded. Which one was Voldemort? He had been sure that _Mark_ was Voldemort, but now that he saw this boy who practically screamed _Dark Lord,_ he could not help but doubt. Or were neither of them imposters? Was he merely being paranoid, like what Hermione and Ron were both suggesting? 

They watched as the two boys made their way to the Sorting Hat. All eyes were trained on them eagerly, yet they hardly seemed to notice. 

'Mark Chruchill,' Professor McGonagall announced.

Mark stepped towards the Sorting Hat. At the same time, Ron leant forwards to whisper at Harry and Hermione, 'Three knuts he's in Gryffindor.'

'Done,' Harry immediately said. 'I say he's in Slytherin.'

'GRYFFINDOR!' the Sorting Hat roared. Harry swore under his breath. Ron sniggered.

'Three knuts the other boy's in Slytherin,' Harry said as he watched Mark walk towards them amid the clapping of the other Gryffindors and sit down beside Katie Bell. There were no particular signs of either delight or disappointment on his face.

'I'm not betting against _that_ ,' Ron snorted. 'That one's a Snake through and through. You just have to look at him.'

Professor McGonagall called out, 'Arcturus Lestrange.'

Harry heard sharp gasps and exclaims of surprise. He turned towards Hermione. 'Lestrange? Is he related to Bellatrix?'

It was Ron who replied. 'Rabastian and Rudolophus, Bellatrix's husband, are supposed to be the last Lestranges left. So yeah, probably.'

Hermione added under her breath, 'And that name - Arcturus - it seems like a Black name. You know, Draco, Sirius, names like that. _Bellatrix_ is a Black.'

'SLYTHERIN!' the Sorting Hat boomed.

'No surprise there,' Ron murmured as the Slytherins applauded. Harry noticed Pansy Parkinson cheering wildly. He wondered how Draco Malfoy would take to his new housemate, who seemed, in all aspects, to be his superior. His eyes slid to the pale blonde boy in question. Malfoy's eyes were fixed on Arcturus, but he seemed more confused than annoyed. Harry wondered why.    

Arcturus sat down beside a sixth-year girl - Daphne Greengrass, Harry remembered - with a smirk. He looked around him lazily as if taking stock of the surroundings and the students both. His dark blue eyes slid towards Harry, and they gazed at each other for a moment. Arcturus smirked again. Harry glared at him in distrust and suspicion. But Daphne was starting to speak to Arcturus; he looked away, and the moment was broken.

'Do you think he's Bellatrix's son,' Ron suddenly said.

Harry shook his head slowly. He felt a headache coming on. 'I don't know,' he sighed.

But now Professor McGonagall was taking the Sorting Hat away, and Dumbledore was standing up. He made his usual short cheerful comments, then announced the beginning of the feast. Food immediately appeared on the golden plates on the four house tables. Harry heard the first-years gasp in astonishment and awe. He couldn't help but grin. Even Mark looked impressed.

As they were eating, Hermione said, 'Have you noticed that the teachers' table is quite empty tonight? Snape and Flitwick are missing, and there's one more empty seat.'

'Probably dealing with the attack. Well, at least Hagrid's here this time,' Harry said, grinning and waving at the half-giant, who waved back cheerfully.

'I wonder who's gonna be the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor,' Hermione mused. Ron shrugged in response, his mouth too stuffed to speak.

Towards the end of the feast, Harry heard someone arguing. He could distinguish two male voices, coming quickly towards the Great Hall, both raised in heated debate.

Hermione and Ron, and most other students, seemed to hear it also. They turned towards the doors curiously.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. 'That voice...' she said.

'Snape,' Ron offered. 'Wonder who ruffled his feathers? Poor bloke.'

'He seems to be holding his own against Snape though,' Harry remarked, listening to the stranger roar back at Snape. He suddenly sat up straight. 'Wait - is that -'

'Sirius!' Hermione gasped as Harry's godfather pushed open the doors loudly.

'-nonsense,' Snape was sneering. 'You should have learnt not to listen to that boy's ravings since last year's fiasco -'

'Don't say a word against him,' Sirius thundered.

Dumbledore cleared his throat loudly. Both Snape and Sirius quieted down and walked towards the teachers' bench. Sirius caught Harry's eye and winked mischievously at him and Ron. They could only gape in disbelief.

'As Professor Umbridge is unable to continue teaching our Defence Against the Dark Arts classes,' Dumbledore announced after Snape and Sirius were seated, 'I am pleased to say that we will have a new teacher amongst us this year. Professor Sirius Black.' He smiled at Sirius, who stood up to receive his share of applause and uproar.

To have a former resident of Azkaban teaching at Hogwarts - that was truly unprecedented. Harry and Ron whooped loudly, while Hermione smiled and clapped. Snape looked particularly nasty. He sat stonily at the table without moving a muscle, looking ready to murder someone.

'Moving on to graver topics,' Dumbledore continued after the hall had somewhat quieted down, 'our professors and Aurors from the Ministry are investigating the attack at the train station this very moment. I am glad to say nobody has been seriously injured, but I must ask you all to stay alert and vigilant. Mr Flich has requested that I remind you specifically that curfew must be abided by...'

Dumbledore continued in the same manner for a while longer, but for once Harry could not focus. He glanced at Sirius, grinning from ear to ear. 'Guess which lesson I'm most looking forward to this year?' he muttered to Ron.

'Can't wait for old Padfoot's classes either,' Ron agreed. 'Imagine - him teaching us 100 methods to escape from Azkaban.'

Harry and Ron sniggered. For the first time in weeks, Voldemort was pushed to the very back of his mind.

***

It was some time after the feast. The castle was sound asleep, but five professors were still wide awake in the Headmaster's Office.

'Well?' Snape asked tartly. 'What do you think?'

Sirius, Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick all gazed at Dumbledore, awaiting his reply.

'I think,' Dumbledore said heavily, 'that the boy does remind me of a certain Dark Lord.'

Professor McGonagall sucked in a sharp breath. 'What do we do?' she asked.

'The question, my dear Professor, should be - what _can_ we do?' the Headmaster replied.

'Expose him,' Professor Flitwick suggested. 'Put students on their guard.'

'And force his hand before we are ready? No, that would be unwise.'

'So we do nothing?' Sirius asked.

'For now - we watch.' 


	14. Chapter 14

Harry woke early on Monday, feeling oddly perturbed. It took him a while to remember why - Mark was sleeping in the bed next to his.

It had been a shock to him when he found out Mark would be residing in their dormitory, because he had quite forgotten that Mark was a sixth year too. He had tossed and turned last night, unwilling to let his guard down with someone who might be Voldemort in the same room, but after a few hours fatigue overcame him and he fell into an uneasy sleep.

He sat up groggily, pulling apart his bed curtains to reveal that Mark was already half dressed. The boy was in his sitting on his own bed in his shirt, black trousers and socks, the red Gryffindor tie hanging lose around his neck as he fixed his hair.

'Morning,' Mark said when he caught Harry staring.

'Morning,' Harry grunted. He heaved himself out of bed, but cursed when he found his legs were entangled in the sheets. He lurched sideways, falling off his bed.

He closed his eyes for the impact, but it never came. He cracked an eye open and saw that the tip of his nose was an inch from the ground.

'You're welcome,' Mark said with a hint of amusement, putting away his wand.

'Thanks,' Harry mumbled, flushing with humiliation. This was not how he had planned to start his first school day of the year.

When he and Ron arrived at the Great Hall for breakfast half an hour later, they found Hermiome was already seated opposite Mark, engaging him in an enthusiastic discussion.

'Hello,' she said brightly as they say down beside her. 'Mark and I are just talking about our Arithmancy class. We're both taking it this year!'

Harry glanced down the aisle at Professor McGonagall, who was distributing their timetables. He had received his OWL results in the summer, but what with all that had happened, it had been pushed to the back of his mind.

'What else are you taking?' he asked.

'DADA, Charms, Transfiguration, Potions and Care of Magical Creatures,' Hermione replied. 'Same for Mark.'

Harry had a sudden horrifying thought that there might be two Hermiones this year, competing for the revered place of first in form. He imagined two hands instead of one shooting into the air whenever a professor asked a question, and hurriedly pushed away that thought for later digestion.

He and Ron received their timetables. 'Merlin's beard,' Ron groaned as he scanned it quickly, 'Potions! First thing after breakfast! My day is ruined.'

'But look,' Harry said excitedly. 'There's DADA in the afternoon.'

'Really? Sirius better make it good, then, 'cause I'll be living for it.'  

'Professor Snape teaches Potions, yes?' Mark asked, looking bemused. 'Is he that bad a teacher?'

Harry and Ron exchanged glances. 'Bad is too mild a word to describe him,' Ron said.

Hermione threw him an admonishing glare. 'He's very strict, and favours his own house, Slytherin,' she said, 'but he's not really bad at teaching.'

'I see,' Mark nodded, looking far too amused. 'So he mistreats Gryffindors. Especially those bad at Potions.'

'He bullies them,' Harry grumbled. 'And expect him to be extra nasty this year, 'cause Sirius has got the post he wants. That won't be pleasant for him.'

Indeed, Snape's face was twisted into an ugly scowl the entire morning. He banged his way into the Potions classroom as usual, looking murderous.

They were brewing the Draught of Living Death. It was a particularly difficult potion to make. Harry glared over the purple fumes steaming from his cauldron at his textbook.

'It says here the smoke should be pink,' he complained. 'But I didn't do anything wrong. I followed every bloody step!' 

'Don't ask me, mate,' Ron groaned. His potion was giving off a nasty burned smell with sickly green fumes.

Mark glanced up from his potion, which was simmering serenely with pink smoke. 'You should add one counterclockwise stir every seven clockwise stirs,' he advised with a small smirk. He caught the Sopophorous Bean that kept flying away every time Harry tried to cut it. 'And don't cut the beans. Crush them.'

'But it says in the textbook-'

'The textbook is wrong,' Mark interrupted smoothly with a raised eyebrow, as if daring Harry to differ.

Harry stared at him doubtfully. But then he noticed that in the whole classroom, only Mark's potion was perfect. Even Hermione was struggling with hers. He shrugged. 'It can't hurt to try,' he said.

'It won't,' Mark said, returning to his own potion.

'How are you two doing that?' Hermione demanded when she saw the deep blue potions in Harry's and Mark's cauldrons. 'Mine keeps turning yellow!'

'Crush the beans-' Harry began.

'No, it says on the textbook specifically to cut!' Hermione argued, sweat dripping from her forehead.

Mark had already completed his and was busy helping Ron. He looked up with a small knowing smirk when he heard her remark, but said nothing. Harry's gaze met his for a brief second, and he couldn't resist the urge to grin back at him.

By the end of the lesson, only Harry and Mark successfully brewed the Draught of Living Death. Snape ignored them, though, and congratulated Arcturus Lestrange instead, whose potion was not nearly as good as theirs, though a league better than Malfoy's, Harry noted with grim pleasure.

'Ah, I'm sure I'll get an A at least this time,' Ron said happily as they filed out of the classroom. 'I don't even care that Snape assigned us two essays. Not a bad start! Thanks for your help, by the way.' He addressed Mark.

Hermione scowled beside them. Her potion, for once, had not been the best in class. 'You should have followed the book,' she insisted. Harry noticed Mark smartly refrained from arguing with her.

Harry could barely contain his excitement as they strode towards the DADA classroom after lunch. He wondered what Sirius had in stock for them. He looked forward to seeing how Sirius would manage teaching.

They streamed into the classroom. Harry took one look at the decoration and gaped. The design was much like what Remus Lupin's in their third year, with magical creatures and odd bits of defence tools and artifacts littered everywhere. But interspersed with them were posters of motorcycles, muggle movies and rock bands on the walls. There were no tables and chairs for them.

Mark gazed with mild horror at the poster of a red racecar. 'Are you sure this isn't the Muggle Studies classroom?' he asked. Ron snickered.

Hermione looked disapproving. 'These are totally unrelated to the subject,' she criticized.

'For your information, Hermione,' Sirius said, appearing suddenly behind her with a broad grin, 'Everything can be related to anything.'

He strode towards the front of the classroom, flicking his wand to make black curtains materialize over the posters as he walked.    
     
'Good afternoon,' he said cheerfully. 'Before we begin, I'd like to know how far you've come in this subject so far. Everyone, spread out and find a nice standing spot.'

Harry and Ron exchanged excited grins. Whatever Sirius was planning, it was definitely not anything Umbridge-like.

'Now, you all will have fifteen minutes to duel whoever is around you. Feel free to walk around and hit your enemies, but no restricted spells please. And don't bother aiming for me,' he winked at Harry, 'I've got a strengthened shield charm around me.'

He clapped his hands together as the room broke out in excited murmurs. 'You may begin!' he shouted over the noise.

'Is this safe?' Hermione cried as she dodged a spell flying towards her from the Slytherins.

'I don't care!' Harry yelled, aiming a Reducto at Malfoy's head. 'It's fun!'

He yelped as a spell passed an inch from his face. He turned and saw Mark, smirking with his wand trained on Harry.

'Stupefy!' he yelled without thinking. Mark blocked it with a flick of his wand, then shot three red jets at Harry at the same time. Harry hastily threw up a shield around himself. He saw one of the red jets hit a Hufflepuff beside him, who crashed into the wall immediately with a curse.

Mark's next spell, whatever it was, shattered Harry's shield and went straight for his heart. He quickly dodged and aimed a Reducto at Mark, but was deflected almost lazily. Quicker than Harry thought possible Mark shot a gold spell back at him. It hit him in the shoulder hard and he flew back, crashing into the wall with a grunt.

Harry's eyes narrowed. He saw Mark's next spell fly towards him without pausing and rolled out of the way, yelling 'Expelliarmus' at the same time. It missed Mark and hit Daphne Greengrass, a Slytherin girl, who whirled around angrily as the wand was yanked out of her hand. She picked it up immediately and hurled a purple spell at the nearest Gryffindor, who happened to be Mark.

Harry opened his mouth to warn Mark, who was faced away from Daphne, but he need not have bothered. It was like Mark could see behind his head. He turned gracefully and blocked the spell, smoothly Stunning Daphne in the process. The girl crumpled on the floor and was dragged to one side by one of her friends.

Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw three yellow jets shoot towards him. He yelled 'Protego' instinctively, then looked up to see Arcturus Lestrange aim another curse at him with a small strange smile. 'Supefy!' he shouted. The two curses met in the middle of the classroom, red on red. They held for a short moment before Harry deflected the curses to the ground and shot another spell at Arcturus, who moved aside quickly. A group of Ravenclaws stumbled between them that instant and broke them off.

Harry turned to look for Mark, and saw him vanishing a snake in front of him, then flicking his wand to tie up a Ravenclaw facing him. The boy dangled from the ceiling upside down, hands bound tightly at his sides, roaring out profanities before Mark used a spell to sew his mouth shut. Harry noted that four other boys had already received the same treatment and were swinging from the ceiling side by side. He saw Crabbe among them and laughed, turning away.

'He sure is doing a neat job,' Ron shouted at him. Harry grinned and shot a Reducto at him. He yelled and dodged behind Hermione, who was right beside him.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were engaged in a friendly three-way battle (Hermione and Ron teamed up and were winning) when Sirius shouted, 'Alright, everyone! Time's up!' A few crackers shot out from the tip of his wand and exploded with spectacular flashes. Gradually the spells stopped and everyone looked at him, panting.

Sirius quickly waved his wand and undid the spells and curses on those who were still afflicted (Neville's legs were locked together, Malfoy's ears had grown to elephant-size, Goyle, Pansy, Daphne and a few Hufflepuffs were unconscious).       

'Nice duel, everyone,' he said, looking a bit wistful, as if he had wanted to join in the fight. 'I have noticed that most of you can handle the basic spells like Stupefy, Expelliarmus and Protego fairly well, but only a few managed to use more advanced curses, while even fewer could do so non-verbally.'

Harry remembered that Mark's mouth had been shut when they were duelling and glanced at him. Mark caught his eyes and raised an eyebrow, smirking.

'For now, we'll mainly be focussing on non-verbals, which gives you a great advantage during duelling as nobody can predict what spell you'll use. Then I'll be teaching you some advanced defensive spells like the Patronus Charm, used against Dementors. I also plan on teaching you some creative ways of fighting, which is particularly useful when you're up against someone more powerful than you are.' He transformed a goblet beside him into a rat and made it fly towards a group of girls, who shrieked and dived out of the way.

For the rest of the lesson, Sirius explained the basics of non-verbal spells, asking a few students randomly to help demonstrate. Then he made them practice lifting a feather silently on their own.

The lesson flew by. Harry struggled with his feather, only managing to non-verbally lift it a few times. Hermione did better, but still not as good as Mark or Arcturus, who completed the task with ease and were moving on to non-verbal Transfiguration by the end. Sirius awarded them with twenty points each.

'That was a brilliant lesson,' Ron grinned at Harry as they streamed out of the classroom after the bell had rung. 'Most fun I've had in any lesson so far.'

'That is just because you're allowed to duel at the start,' Hermione snorted, but she, too, allowed that the lesson warranted nothing less than an Outstanding.

'Especially considering we have no homework, bless Padfoot,' Harry added.

 


End file.
